A second-generation Chinese American born in New York City, Arthur Sze teaches in New Mexico at the Institute of American Indian Arts. His poetry is remarkable for its combined focus of Eastern history and Western modernity.
By Arthur Sze
A spring snow coincides with plum blossoms.
In a month, you will forget, then remember
when nine ravens perched in the elm sway in wind.
I will remember when I brake to a stop,
and a hubcap rolls through the intersection.
An angry man grinds...
By Arthur Sze
The tide ebbs and reveals orange and purple sea stars.
I have no theory of radiance,
but after rain evaporates
off pine needles, the needles glisten.
In the courtyard, we spot the rising shell of a moon,
and,...
By Arthur Sze
An architect draws a watercolor
depicting two people about to enter
a meeting room, while someone
on the stairway gazes through windows
at a park, river, skyscrapers beyond;
he does not want to be locked
like a carbon atom in a benzene ring
but needs to rotate,...
